Kreep.

THE TAMING OF THE FEW. (Kreep).
sneak

She's the kind of girl your mum won't like.
But your dad would disagree.
She's the antidote to all your woes,
but she doesn't cum for free.
She's everything worth living for.
So pleasing to the eyes.
Blue movies play on retinas,
producing coded sighs.
A code that we know all to well,
like a million men before.
Pathetic in our reasoning -
to keep a running score.
For every girl a number.
Plotting graphs in our sick minds.
A system of percentages,
a meat market of kinds.
Where looks are all important -
and brains don't really count.
To the stirrings in our underwear -
we will remain devout.
Judgmental, our conclusions -
that beauty is skin deep.
We are the very cretins -
that causes skin to creep.
Self abusing losers.
We lack the social skills.
We sit in musty bedrooms -
producing body spills.
Groaning for perfection,
the kind we'll never claim.
A mob of rogue testosterone -
that only she can tame.

sneak